


one single thread of gold tied me to you

by gomamon



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Non-Explicit Sex, kind of au but you'll see what i mean when you read it :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomamon/pseuds/gomamon
Summary: Tifa, Aerith, and their world of red and white.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 12
Kudos: 119





	one single thread of gold tied me to you

**Author's Note:**

> so i haven’t written anything in a looong time and this doesn’t really have much plot or anything. i’m just trying to get a good grip on their romantic dynamic, and this initial conversation popped into my head while looping folklore (i don’t wanna talk about it). let me know if the rating should go up or down. not entirely sure how to gauge that sort of thing.

Aerith opens her bedroom window, the one right above the headboard. The smell of the flowers outside wafts in. Down the path, the kids at the orphanage are having a music day. The sounds of them banging on their makeshift instruments — pots, pans, homemade flutes — are faint, but Aerith grins when she hears them. Tifa watches as she pushes her curtains to the side. She’s too beautiful for this place, Tifa thinks. So many guys at the bar have tried to tell her something similar about herself, ( _What’s a pretty girl doing in a place like this?_ ) but she knows they never meant it. She knows that Aerith is an otherworldly beauty. She knows she belongs somewhere else, somewhere where colors as vibrant and bold as her aren’t sequestered to a small section of a slum. Tifa doesn’t know much, in the grand scheme of things, but she knows this. 

Aerith leans to the side and switches on her little music player. The sounds of the insects chirping and the kids are drowned by a calming melody. 

The bed is barely big enough for the both of them, but it doesn’t seem to bother Aerith, who simply lies half on top of Tifa like it’s nothing, like she’s meant to be there. Tifa doesn’t mind. 

After a moment of allowing the music to settle in the air, Tifa mumbles, “Hey.”

Aerith moves her head off of Tifa’s chest to look her directly in the eye. Green meets red. “Hi.”

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” 

Aerith tilts her head, confused. Tifa doesn’t elaborate, she simply pushes Aerith’s bangs out of her eyes and runs her fingers through her disheveled hair. She’s gentle — surprisingly gentle for someone with scars across her knuckles. Aerith closes her eyes and leans into the touch. 

Her eyes are still closed when she says, “Real or pretend?”

Tifa loosely wraps a strand of auburn hair around her finger. “What?”

“Does the place have to be real, or can it be pretend?” Aerith’s eyes are open now, her eyebrow raised expectantly. 

“Whatever you want,” Tifa breathes. Lately, she’s noticed herself using that phrase around Aerith more and more. 

“I want to... I wish I could make us a place. Just for you and me.” Now it’s Tifa’s turn to close her eyes as Aerith reaches up to thread her own fingers through her hair, which is equally disheveled. Growing up, Tifa was always weirdly protective over her hair. She never understood why, even to this day, but she always hated it whenever anyone touched it. Not Aerith, though. The feeling of her hands in her hair might be the best one in the world. Tifa would be willing to fight anyone over that. 

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, there’s flowers everywhere, of course.”

“Of course. What kinds?”

At that, Aerith snorts. It should be unattractive and rude, but it makes Tifa’s heart ache, warm and almost overbearing, like whiskey. Tifa opens her eyes and Aerith’s are shining as she says, “Any of them. All of them. Red Camellias. White Heather. Red Poppies. Red Tulips. White Carnations. Primroses.” 

Tifa grins. “Oh, I remember what Primroses mean.” 

She remembers sitting at one of the tables in front of the Leaf House, watching Aerith flip through a book about flowers and all their meanings. She remembers the giggles from the little girl in her lap when Aerith said, “These are Primroses. You give them to someone when you want to say, ‘I love you and I can’t live without you’.” 

She remembers the little boy on her right saying, “That’s so gross!” and Aerith laughing, her eyes locked onto Tifa’s the entire time.

Aerith gives her a sly smile, her fingers still combing through Tifa’s hair. “Oh, you do?”

"Yes," Tifa playfully rolls her eyes before insisting, “Tell me about the others. So much red.”

Aerith shifts now, fully rolling onto her stomach to swing her feet in the air. She places her chin in her hand, and uses the other to trace patterns against Tifa’s palm, resting near her head against the pillow. 

She looks into Tifa’s eyes again before softly declaring, “It’s a good color.”

“Aerith.”

A sigh. She relents. 

“Red Camellias mean, ‘my heart aches for you’, and the red Tulips are just ‘declaration of love’. A white Heather ‘protection’. I like those a lot.”

Tifa is breathless when she squeaks, “Th-those are the ones by the lilies, yeah?”

Aerith nods. “And the red poppies are ‘ _pleasure_ ’ and white carnations mean ‘pure love’.”

Tifa laughs at the absurdity of that, especially considering the hand that Aerith is so fixated on definitely wasn’t involved in anything pure only ten minutes ago. Aerith gives her a silly grin in response, knowing she’s been caught. 

“Alright, then. What else is there, in our world of red and white?”

“You open another bar. And you let me decorate.”

This again. “Aeri-“

“You let me decorate, and everyone loves it. Especially Marlene.” 

“Oh, come on. You know that’s a low blow.”

Aerith doesn’t say anything, just leans down to kiss the corner of Tifa’s mouth. It’s so fast and light that it shuts her up quick. They lie together for a while after that, Aerith humming softly along with her music while Tifa just watches and watches and watches. She could lie there forever, forget the bar, forget the world. She doesn’t, though, because Elmyra will be home soon and Biggs, Jessie, and Wedge can only stay on task for so long without her. Aerith kisses her cheek before she closes the gate behind her. 

_My heart aches for you. I can’t live without you._

It becomes a thing between them, after that, their world of white and red. They’re babysitting Marlene when Aerith says, “Hey, Tifa. I think maybe after I’m done decorating the second bar, I’ll open a flower shop,” like it’s a talking point in a very normal, casual conversation. 

Marlene, who is sitting next to her at the bar, stops shoveling mac and cheese into her mouth. “A second bar? Tifa’s leaving?” Her voice shakes, and Tifa feels like her heart might crash through her chest, breaking her ribs and splattering on the wall. 

“No! No, sweet girl, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Marlene turns to Aerith now, holding out her spoon like a weapon, insistently. 

“It’s just, uh, make believe, you know? You and Betty do it all the time, right? Me and Tifa, we’re just playing make believe. I’m pretending I’m building a world for us.” 

“Oh!” Marlene’s eyes light up, clearly understanding. She shoves her spoon back into her mac and cheese before asking, “Can I come?”

“Of course,” Tifa interjects, placing another bowl of mac and cheese in front of Aerith, who claps excitedly. “Although, I thought you said there would be flowers everywhere. Why open a flower shop?”

Aerith catches Tifa’s playful smile, and bounces back, “‘Cause maybe people might want bouquets of flowers that aren’t red and white, dummy.”

“Yeah! Dummy Tifa!” Marlene cheers, nearly knocking over her dinner. 

Aerith laughs right along with her.

That night, Aerith goes home with Tifa, having promised Elmyra that she’d be home when the sun went up. Their fantasy world is the furthest thing from Tifa’s mind when Aerith pushes her onto the bed and straddles her, an almost evil glint in her eye. All Tifa can do is gasp, bright and excited. She’s about to reach up and wrap her hands around Aerith’s hips, when the loud thump of the front door closing in the apartment next door echoes throughout the room. Cloud’s front door. 

The sound of his boots as he clambers down the steps fades out, and Aerith reaches out to put Tifa’s hands on her waist. 

By the time they hear Cloud’s front door again, Tifa sits on Aerith’s bed, watching as she brushes her hair in front of the mirror. Thoughts of plants on windowsills and creaking floorboards accompanied by white and red reverberate through her mind. She smiles to herself, but Aerith catches her eye in the mirror.

“Something funny?” She chirps as she puts down her brush. Slow and languid, her eyebrows raised, she moves towards Tifa. She settles in her lap, knees on either side of Tifa’s hips, the easiest thing in the world. 

“No, I was just thinking. We should get a house.”

Aerith leans back. Her eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What?”

"I-In our… place. We should get a house.” 

Sun peeking between curtains. Pictures stuck to the front of the fridge. Toothbrushes side by side. 

“Hmm,” Aerith ponders as she taps her finger against her chin playfully. “A whole house just for the two of us?” 

“Well, not just the two of us.”

Aerith’s eyes open wide.

"I mean! C-Cats. I want cats. Do you like cats?” Tifa flounders, fidgeting. Aerith tilts her head back and laughs. This is Tifa’s favorite view; there’s nothing like it in the entire world. If there is, she doesn’t care. 

Tifa almost deflates when Aerith stops laughing, but bounces back when she says, “Relax, baby. I love cats,” She kisses Tifa’s cheek before getting off of her to lie down. Tifa leans over to turn off the light before following suit. They lie like that, face to face, chest to chest. “Don’t tell Barrett I said this, but Marlene can really be a handful."

Tifa huffs and reaches out for her. Aerith waits a moment, waits until Tifa _pouts_ , before relenting and moving closer. 

"So needy," She giggles, and Tifa flushes. She looks away, but Aerith puts her fingers against her jawline, tugging gently until Tifa looks again. "Tell me about it. The house."

Tifa licks her lips and clears her throat. Tactile and stubborn, words have never been her strong suit. She was good at showing her affection in touches, in cooking, in giving herself up to Aerith’s mercy. Words were a different animal. But, something about the thought of a world that’s been made for _them_ , for them and their friends, and for the flowers Midgar will never see, makes the words feel almost natural. 

“We have cats. They follow you around when you garden. You let me have cacti.”

“ _Ugh_.”

Tifa ignores her. “You let me have cacti. We have everyone over for dinner, sometimes, and we have a table big enough for everyone. We cook together beforehand. You grow the herbs in a garden on the porch.”

Aerith sighs and pushes in closer, wrapping her arms around Tifa like a vice. She tucks her face into her neck, and Tifa rests her hand against the back of her head. 

“We have a queen sized bed. The sheets are… purple?”

“Yellow.” Aerith’s lips are feather light against her neck. She sighs.

“The sheets are yellow. No one ever bothers us. Cloud lives all the way down the street. Jessie never says anything when I have bruises on my wrists.”

Aerith chuckles. “That’ll never happen. Don’t kid yourself.”

When Aerith falls asleep first, Tifa observes the rise and fall of her chest, the light pink flush on her cheeks. Otherworldly beauty. She almost wants to wake Aerith up and ask her if there’s a flower for that, but she decides to just keep watching, watching, watching.   
  


“What’s going on between you and Aerith?” Cloud asks her one morning while she’s doing opening prep for the bar. On the counter next to her lies the chalkboard she usually uses to write down specials or little notes for her friends ( _Happy Birthday, Biggs!_ ). Today, the board is littered with words like “Cloud Jr.”, “Mr. Fluffy”, and “Kitty”, accompanied by a couple doodles of cats drawn in the corner. She should’ve never let Marlene, Jessie, and Aerith come within an inch of the blackboard chalk. 

Slowly, she puts down the glass she had been drying off to put her hands on her hips. “Cloud, we talked about this, like, months ago. We’re t-“

“That’s not what I meant. I heard Marlene talking about you opening another bar. You going somewhere?” 

Tifa notices the way he tenses, just slightly. To anyone else, it would be undetectable, but she’s Tifa and he’s Cloud. 

“No. We aren’t going anywhere. It’s just a, uh, game? Between me and Aerith. I asked her to tell me where she’d go if she could go anywhere, and it turned into us making up this, like, fantasy world,” She nibbles on her lower lip and scrunches her nose. “Wow, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”

“No it doesn’t. Sounds like you and Aerith.”

Cloud is always blunt, always straight to the point. Words aren’t easy for him, either, but then again, nothing really is, unless it involves his sword. Tifa understands this, probably better than anyone else. It always hits her hard, though, when he speaks like _that_ and his words ricochet throughout her entire body. _Her and Aerith_. 

  
  


She closes the bar to the general public early that night, around eight. Barrett plays the oldies on the jukebox and spins Marlene in the air. She giggles hysterically when Barrett gently tosses her into Wedge’s arms. Wedge hoists her on his shoulder, singing along. From the bar, Tifa gazes fondly, while Cloud downs his third drink of the night. Next to him, Biggs and Jessie are arguing over something irrelevant. 

When the door swings open and Aerith coasts in, Tifa doesn’t hear Barrett’s music anymore. Dazed, her mind floods with the songs Aerith plays in her room on lazy afternoons, the sheets tangled between the two of them. When Aerith winks at her as she sets her basket on one of the tables, the music grows louder and louder. It swings back and forth at a lazy pace. Aerith kisses Barrett’s cheek and pinches Marlene’s. She high fives Wedge. 

“Hi, you,” Aerith mumbles when she finally reaches Tifa. She leans over the counter and kisses her. Like almost all of her kisses, it’s bold and soft all at once. Tifa just sputters and Aerith teases, “Jeez, honey. Are you gonna do this every time I come in here?”

Jessie answers for her. “Probably,” She says. She snorts as she stands up from the counter, dragging Cloud and Biggs along with her. Tifa swears she catches her rolling her eyes, but she doesn’t care, especially when Aerith takes a seat directly in front of her. 

“I wanted to ask you. What kind of vases do you want for the new bar?”

Tifa composes herself. She’ll play along. She always will. 

“Why do we need vases? It’s a _bar_ , Aerith.” She shudders at the thought of broken glass as Biggs runs into one of the tables and laughs. 

“For the flowers.” 

“Oh, we’re putting flowers in the bar, hmm? Who said?” 

“Me. ‘Cause you’re letting me decorate.”

Aerith reaches out and grabs onto one of Tifa’s suspenders. She tugs lightly and Tifa shuffles forward clumsily. She’ll never get used to this, to Aerith’s boldness, to the way she wants to surrender herself completely to her at any moment of every day. 

“Whatever you want.” She gasps as she feels Aerith’s lips against her cheek again.

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

If Tifa abandons cleaning all the dirty glasses on the counter to watch as Aerith’s hair shimmers under the crappy bar lights while she dances with Jessie, that’s her business. And if they dance together once everyone’s left, with Tifa humming the melody of Aerith’s favorite song to guide them, that’s her business, too.

**Author's Note:**

> [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuFnpmGwg5k)
> 
> honestly i don’t know anything about flowers, so these could totally all look ugly together! i dunno! i used google. also i apologize for any errors, a lot of this was written at like, 4 am lmfao.
> 
> anyway have a good day/night y’all! [tifa fancam]


End file.
